


The Memory of Trees

by death_of_romeo



Category: Rosencrantz & Guildenstern are Dead - Stoppard
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-17
Updated: 2014-04-17
Packaged: 2018-01-19 17:57:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1478851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/death_of_romeo/pseuds/death_of_romeo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The trees just stood there. They were like guards, really. They just stood there and guarded their land. Like soldiers, except soldiers weren't made of wood and bark." Just some good ol' Ros and Guil stupidity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Memory of Trees

**Author's Note:**

> This work was originally posted to my ff.net account. I figured I would post it to here, as well. Enjoy!

They had been sent for. Or...something like that. He didn't remember the actual _happening_ of being sent for ( _probably in an act before the show even began_ , he thought offhandedly), but he did remember Guildenstern talking about it. Or was it Rosencrantz? Ah, it didn't matter all that much. Not enough to think and fret on, anyway. After all, they had somewhere to be! They _had_ been sent for, after all.

The forest was nothing but trees and leaves and paths and trails and, if you listened really close, whispers from spirits and ghosts and past travelers. It was astounding, really. They were looking for somewhere safe enough to rest their heads for the evening. Funny, too, how his friend had chosen to word that phrase; it reminded him of the coin in his pocket. A coin which, judging by the determined, probably annoyed expression across his best friend's face, was in desperate need of making an appearance yet again. And so, making sure to not trip over any limbs or things at his feet, the younger of the two rummaged through his pockets before ultimately retrieving the shiny gold coin. He held it up for just a moment, watched the afternoon sun reflect against it. It was strange, how bright the coin became when held in the light. He supposed everything was like that; dark at first, but light and bright if held correctly. Well, at least the coin was like that, anyway. He finally flipped it, watched it twirl and turn in the air, before he caught it and overturned it on the top of his hand. Maybe it would be tails. Or heads...hadn't his friend said that it was an even chance either way? He supposed that was true. After all, one side had heads, and the other had tails. Heads, tails. Heads, tails, yet somehow...

"Heads." he admitted in defeat. Guildenstern (Rosencrantz?) turned around to glance at the word before looking back up ahead of the two.

"It was an even chance, I suppose."

"I suppose..." he paused, though he couldn't say why. Maybe it was for thought. Maybe for dramatic effect. Maybe it was to appreciate the beauty of probability and chance and the odds that one coin would come up heads nearly one hundred times in a row. Maybe if he flipped it again, it would come up tails. It was an even chance, after all, wasn't it? And so, for mere experimental purposes, he flipped the coin again, and...

"Heads." he said before flipping the coin again, and again, and again. "Heads...heads...heads..."

"Would you stop that?" something broke him from his coin-induced trance, and a quick glance proved that it had been his friend. His friend with the annoyed expression and the sharp tone and the all-but bothered gaze. He didn't have to stop flipping the coin; he could very well have continued on until he had flipped it one hundred times or two hundred times or three hundred times, but he didn't. He knew better than to purposely bother his friend like that. Who in their right mind would purposely bother people? That made no sense and, quite frankly, it sounded really rather rude to do such a thing like that. And so he pocketed the coin, sighed quietly, and went silent.

Walking through the forest in silence was creepy. It was scary and frightening, too, but mostly just creepy. The ground beneath them seemed to creak and squeak and make all kinds of noises under their feet, the wind seemed to howl and screech as it blew through the leaves. The trees just stood there. They were like guards, really. They just stood there and guarded their land. Like soldiers, except soldiers weren't made of wood and bark. Soldiers didn't have leaves that fell in the winter and grew back in the spring. Soldiers had swords with sharp blades, not leaves, but he still liked to think of the trees as the soldiers of the forest. Or was it the guards?

"Do you think that they will remember us?" he finally asked after having thought about this comparison for a fairly long while.

"Pardon?"  
"The trees...do you think that they will remember us walking past them?"

There was another pause, but he wasn't the one to initiate it this time. It had been Guildenstern (or was it Rosencrantz?) who had begun this brief stint of silence; he just followed along with it.

"Well...I suppose they would. But they're only plants."  
"Do plants have-"  
"-memories? They surely do. But how would we know? We've never known a bush or a flower or a tree to remember us, so thus we have no actual proof that they are capable of doing so."

This time, it was his turn to pause. His friend had a valid point. There had been no real evidence that plants could actually remember and recall people who had passed by them before. Maybe that was because nobody had really thought of it before, because surely if someone had imagined it, that same someone would have tested it. Wouldn't they? He would test it, but he was busy. He was always busy. Besides, he had somewhere to be! He couldn't just stop to test things like that.

"Do you think they have memories?"  
"Hm...I'm not sure."

That wasn't the answer he was looking for. Granted, he wasn't exactly sure which answer he was looking for, but it wasn't that one.

"Why are you not sure?"  
"Why are you so curious?"  
"Am I not allowed to be curious?"  
"Must I have all of the answers?"  
"Shouldn't you?"  
"Shouldn't _you_?"

"Foul, no repetition!" he smiled, grinned at his friend, but let it fade away when the affection wasn't returned. "I think they will remember us."

"Why?"  
"Well...how can anyone forget us?"


End file.
